One of the weird things about running is that unlike many sports, there’s often a clear advantage to gain by not putting your best team together every week. After our race this weekend was moved from a flat course at Connecticut College, to a hilly course at Williams, we elected to sit a few runners (including myself) who could’ve raced, but were nursing colds or minor injuries, and didn’t want to risk the strain.
While placing high in the team score is obviously a goal, it wasn’t the sole point of this race for us, or for many of the other teams there. In most sports, the best way to practice is to recreate game situations, usually in smaller pieces by practicing certain plays or techniques. In “skill sports,” practice makes perfect.
The same can’t be said for runners. If I tried to train for an 8K by running an 8K as fast as I could every day, I’d be destroyed and frustrated halfway through the year. We spend just as much effort practicing as other athletes, but we’re doing so with a bunch of scientific charts telling us to run for certain distances at certain paces on certain days. Thus, the coach becomes less of an instructor, and more valued for analysis.
Coach McCowan has these charts at his disposal to gain a solid idea of what anyone on our team should run in a workout on any given day. While I’m not a coach, I’d imagine the real skill in being a good coach comes from monitoring his athletes, looking for inconsistency in form or time, and trying to emphasize that the season is long, and that any course of action should keep this in mind. In my case this weekend, I needed that reminder, and while it was difficult to watch my teammates race when I knew that, if necessary, I probably could have gotten through the race, I needed the reminder that there are bigger battles to fight down the road.
Next week, we’re going to have a much clearer sense of where we stand as a team, but right now, we haven’t raced together as a team at our championship distance, the 8K. There may be a little trial-by-fire next weekend, with the Liberty League Championships our first major test. With Hamilton no longer a league member in cross country, only two teams that beat us last year will be racing: RPI and St. Lawrence.
Hamilton’s departure especially changes the landscape at the front of the race, since their top runner, Peter Kosgei, happened to finish 2nd at the Division III National Championships last year, and is putting himself in position to contend for the title once again. The second and third place finishers from last year, both from St. Lawrence, also ran well at Nationals last year, but neither are on this year’s roster. Thus, the front of this year’s race will be wide open, and very exciting to watch.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Ramadan & Running
After a run, replenishing your body with food and water is a big part of recovery. Imagine not being able to eat or drink for hours after exercise. For countless Muslims, including my teammate, junior Ali Jamil, this is a reality during Ramadan.
Since Islam runs on a lunar calendar, the dates of Ramadan change every year, but this year, they happen to coincide with the first half of cross-country season. Ali, who has been observing Ramadan since age 10, makes major adjustments to his schedule so he can continue to train while practicing his religion.
He wakes up at 4:30 AM to eat a large meal, and has to stop eating by sunrise. The meal has to last until sundown, which is around 14 hours later, and Ali likes to fill up on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and fruit salad, and tries to drink enough water in the half-hour before sunrise to last him for the day. During practice, when we’re squirting water in our mouths in the middle of a workout, he can only watch. On race day, if it’s excessively humid or hot, Ali wisely chooses to sit out or race at less than 100% effort. If he does race, it saps his strength for the entire day; after our invitational, Ali went home and slept until sundown while the rest of the team probably went to ACDC and then got some work done.
While the month of Ramadan requires Ali to make changes, he says that he loves both his religion and running, and he’s glad he doesn’t have to choose one or the other. I’m glad that Ali’s able to keep his commitment both to the team and to his faith, and I think he sets a great example for the team in that he doesn’t allow running and other major commitments to sabotage each other; rather, he maintains a flexible, positive attitude. That said, Ramadan ends a couple days before the Liberty League Championships, and I bet he’s looking forward to the first gulp of water at the finish line.
Since Islam runs on a lunar calendar, the dates of Ramadan change every year, but this year, they happen to coincide with the first half of cross-country season. Ali, who has been observing Ramadan since age 10, makes major adjustments to his schedule so he can continue to train while practicing his religion.
He wakes up at 4:30 AM to eat a large meal, and has to stop eating by sunrise. The meal has to last until sundown, which is around 14 hours later, and Ali likes to fill up on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and fruit salad, and tries to drink enough water in the half-hour before sunrise to last him for the day. During practice, when we’re squirting water in our mouths in the middle of a workout, he can only watch. On race day, if it’s excessively humid or hot, Ali wisely chooses to sit out or race at less than 100% effort. If he does race, it saps his strength for the entire day; after our invitational, Ali went home and slept until sundown while the rest of the team probably went to ACDC and then got some work done.
While the month of Ramadan requires Ali to make changes, he says that he loves both his religion and running, and he’s glad he doesn’t have to choose one or the other. I’m glad that Ali’s able to keep his commitment both to the team and to his faith, and I think he sets a great example for the team in that he doesn’t allow running and other major commitments to sabotage each other; rather, he maintains a flexible, positive attitude. That said, Ramadan ends a couple days before the Liberty League Championships, and I bet he’s looking forward to the first gulp of water at the finish line.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
The Pageantry of Van Cortlandt Park
Recently, ESPN.com’s Page 2 did a story on the 100 most important sports venues in America, which can be found at the following link: (http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=caple/080919/venues).
Running-related locations appearing on the list include the University of Oregon’s Hayward Field, site of this year’s Olympic Trials and Steve Prefontaine’s record runs, and the University of Pennsylvania’s Franklin Field, which hosts the Penn Relays. Sitting at #99 is Van Cortlandt Golf Course in the Bronx. While I usually agree with most everything on Page 2, I think ESPN overlooked the greater significance of the park. While the oldest public golf course in America is surely significant, ESPN failed to mention that the park also contains the oldest cross country course in the nation.
Much of what makes Van Cortlandt special is the atmosphere; not only is the park nestled between a major highway and some of the most densely populated neighborhoods in the U.S., but the urban nature of the park leads to certain eccentricities. For example, the first few hundred meters of our course cut through a pair of youth soccer games, and past an old-timers baseball game. In addition, the sheer number of schools in the area who want to use the course means that we warmed up alongside big-time programs such as Michigan, Penn State, Cornell and Iona in the park, and then got to watch one of the more competitive Division I meets in the country just minutes before our race started. Once we packed up, the area high schools came out in droves, including the younger siblings and former high school teams of some of my Vassar teammates, turning a September race into a reunion and a family outing.
The size and scope of Van Cortlandt races, and the difficulty of the course also provides an argument for the course’s status within the top 100 American sports venues. Sections of the course have become proper nouns, including Cemetery Hill, which in addition to sitting near the Van Cortlandt family burial ground, has killed the legs of countless runners with its intense grade. It’s hard to leave Van Cortlandt upset, if for no other reason than racing there feels like being a small piece of living history. Of course, a second place finish to the defending national champion and a victory for the women would leave a pretty good taste in anyone’s mouth.
While this weekend was undeniably very positive for the team, next weekend provides a bigger challenge, especially for the men’s team, as the race will be the first 8K race of the season for us, and the first ever for the eight newcomers to the team. There’s definitely an adjustment to be made, but November is still off in the distance, giving everyone plenty of time to adjust.
Running-related locations appearing on the list include the University of Oregon’s Hayward Field, site of this year’s Olympic Trials and Steve Prefontaine’s record runs, and the University of Pennsylvania’s Franklin Field, which hosts the Penn Relays. Sitting at #99 is Van Cortlandt Golf Course in the Bronx. While I usually agree with most everything on Page 2, I think ESPN overlooked the greater significance of the park. While the oldest public golf course in America is surely significant, ESPN failed to mention that the park also contains the oldest cross country course in the nation.
Much of what makes Van Cortlandt special is the atmosphere; not only is the park nestled between a major highway and some of the most densely populated neighborhoods in the U.S., but the urban nature of the park leads to certain eccentricities. For example, the first few hundred meters of our course cut through a pair of youth soccer games, and past an old-timers baseball game. In addition, the sheer number of schools in the area who want to use the course means that we warmed up alongside big-time programs such as Michigan, Penn State, Cornell and Iona in the park, and then got to watch one of the more competitive Division I meets in the country just minutes before our race started. Once we packed up, the area high schools came out in droves, including the younger siblings and former high school teams of some of my Vassar teammates, turning a September race into a reunion and a family outing.
The size and scope of Van Cortlandt races, and the difficulty of the course also provides an argument for the course’s status within the top 100 American sports venues. Sections of the course have become proper nouns, including Cemetery Hill, which in addition to sitting near the Van Cortlandt family burial ground, has killed the legs of countless runners with its intense grade. It’s hard to leave Van Cortlandt upset, if for no other reason than racing there feels like being a small piece of living history. Of course, a second place finish to the defending national champion and a victory for the women would leave a pretty good taste in anyone’s mouth.
While this weekend was undeniably very positive for the team, next weekend provides a bigger challenge, especially for the men’s team, as the race will be the first 8K race of the season for us, and the first ever for the eight newcomers to the team. There’s definitely an adjustment to be made, but November is still off in the distance, giving everyone plenty of time to adjust.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The Psychology of Running
Athletics are largely about physical ability; strength, agility, and endurance come to mind. While the bulk of today's practice focused on those skills, with 1-kilometer repeats around the rugby field, our weekly meeting focused on the often-ignored mental aspect of sport, with the help of a special guest, Vassar Psychology professor Jay Bean. I've never taken a psychology class, and I know very little about its application in most situations. However, from Professor Bean's sessions with our team, which take place once or twice per season, I've learned a little bit about applying psychology to cross country. In the past, these talks have focused on remaining positive during races, smiling, and blocking out that negative voice that provides excuses for poor performance.
Tonight, we focused on things we can individually do to act as better teammates. Between time at practices, meets, and in the locker room, we probably spend up to 25 or 30 hours together per week, not including meals and time at the library, where we generally cluster together. With that amount of time together, it's almost inevitable that everyone's toes are going to be stepped on once or twice.
However, when we went around the room, people mentioned things like being on time, which shows we respect what we do and that we all have places to be, and acknowledging people's efforts while they're out on the course, or in the middle of a workout, I realized that the individuals on our team are actually quite good at being teammates already. Professor Bean also urged us to remember that we run largely because we enjoy it, and that if we aren't enjoying it, we shouldn't be here. With teammates like this, it's often hard to imagine not wanting to be here.
Tonight, we focused on things we can individually do to act as better teammates. Between time at practices, meets, and in the locker room, we probably spend up to 25 or 30 hours together per week, not including meals and time at the library, where we generally cluster together. With that amount of time together, it's almost inevitable that everyone's toes are going to be stepped on once or twice.
However, when we went around the room, people mentioned things like being on time, which shows we respect what we do and that we all have places to be, and acknowledging people's efforts while they're out on the course, or in the middle of a workout, I realized that the individuals on our team are actually quite good at being teammates already. Professor Bean also urged us to remember that we run largely because we enjoy it, and that if we aren't enjoying it, we shouldn't be here. With teammates like this, it's often hard to imagine not wanting to be here.
Monday, September 15, 2008
My Teammates Set A Great Example
This weekend was an off weekend for the cross country team, a rarity for us this early in the season. We generally attend the same meets every year, and most of the meets end up being on the same weekend as they were the previous season. That said, after an especially detailed and wet workout on Friday, it was great to have a day to run only a few miles and recover. The recovery day allowed us to run particularly long on Sunday, with Alex Booth and Anthony Lucero knocking out 20 miles together to lead the team.
These two guys run more than anyone else on the team, waking up early a few times a week to run extra miles together, occasionally with a couple other stragglers (including myself), only to turn around and excel during afternoon practices, often adding on miles at the end of those practices too. For the three years I've been on this team, they've set an example as two of the hardest workers around. Anytime I want to stay in bed instead of getting a few extra miles in the morning, I remind myself that at least one, if not both of these guys, will be there, setting a great example for the rest of us.
These two guys run more than anyone else on the team, waking up early a few times a week to run extra miles together, occasionally with a couple other stragglers (including myself), only to turn around and excel during afternoon practices, often adding on miles at the end of those practices too. For the three years I've been on this team, they've set an example as two of the hardest workers around. Anytime I want to stay in bed instead of getting a few extra miles in the morning, I remind myself that at least one, if not both of these guys, will be there, setting a great example for the rest of us.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Good Racing 'Round The Corner
At first glance, cross-country practice might resemble a practice for any other sport: a bunch of guys sweating it out together. That said, it can often be more difficult to quantitatively or qualitatively measure the strength of a performance at a given practice. If I played basketball, I could get a sense that I was doing particularly well from 3-point range, and if I was a tennis player, I’d know whether or not I was having a hard time getting my serve in. In order to gain a similar metric, runners have split times. I’ve never understood the science behind the pace charts coaches use to determine how fast runners should go depending on the type of workout. Instead, I know that a pace chart exists for a reason, and that all I need to do to have a successful day is to hit my paces.
Yesterday, a new pace chart was posted in our locker room. That served as a clear warning of a workout to come. After a number of flat and hilly repeats of 600-1200 meters, I finished the workout feeling better than I did before practice. Obviously, I was significantly more fatigued than when I showed up, and it might seem a little strange that being exactly on pace at the end of a workout would create such a feeling of accomplishment, as opposed to being faster than my target. However, there’s a reason my target pace was put in a certain spot, and if I hit my marks like I did yesterday, I know I’m going to have some good races down the road.
As for today, I ran seven miles before my first class, and I’ll be bobbing around in the pool this afternoon. And yes, this is what I consider a “restful day."
Yesterday, a new pace chart was posted in our locker room. That served as a clear warning of a workout to come. After a number of flat and hilly repeats of 600-1200 meters, I finished the workout feeling better than I did before practice. Obviously, I was significantly more fatigued than when I showed up, and it might seem a little strange that being exactly on pace at the end of a workout would create such a feeling of accomplishment, as opposed to being faster than my target. However, there’s a reason my target pace was put in a certain spot, and if I hit my marks like I did yesterday, I know I’m going to have some good races down the road.
As for today, I ran seven miles before my first class, and I’ll be bobbing around in the pool this afternoon. And yes, this is what I consider a “restful day."
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Aches & Pains The Day After
September 8
It’s never a good feeling when a workout that was going well suddenly goes south. Today was a tough workout for a lot of my teammates, with people definitely still feeling some of the effects from their first race. No doubt, asking people to drop their split times from a steady distance run pace to faster than race pace is difficult, but there shouldn’t have been as many casualties as there were today. I was cranking along with the lead pack, and not having difficulty staying there even as my teammates began to fade. As Sam Murray, one of our highly touted freshmen, and I came onto the track for our first lap, I could tell he might have been feeling a little better than I was. Sure enough, he took off on the track, leaving me in his dust, as my hips locked up.
Frustrated about having to slow down and with no one else to pull me along, in a moment of combined physical and mental weakness, I pulled up and stopped running. Maybe I should have finished the workout, but maybe I saved myself from injury. It’s a long season, and it’s hard to say. I could make excuses for why I was lacking that last bit of pop, such as the morning run I went on unaccompanied this morning, but all in all, I’m trying to not to worry about a training run gone awry in early September, especially one that had so many positives. In fact, I think the greatest defeat of the day would be to allow that lap on the track to be my take-away from the day, rather than the miles that went so well beforehand.
It’s never a good feeling when a workout that was going well suddenly goes south. Today was a tough workout for a lot of my teammates, with people definitely still feeling some of the effects from their first race. No doubt, asking people to drop their split times from a steady distance run pace to faster than race pace is difficult, but there shouldn’t have been as many casualties as there were today. I was cranking along with the lead pack, and not having difficulty staying there even as my teammates began to fade. As Sam Murray, one of our highly touted freshmen, and I came onto the track for our first lap, I could tell he might have been feeling a little better than I was. Sure enough, he took off on the track, leaving me in his dust, as my hips locked up.
Frustrated about having to slow down and with no one else to pull me along, in a moment of combined physical and mental weakness, I pulled up and stopped running. Maybe I should have finished the workout, but maybe I saved myself from injury. It’s a long season, and it’s hard to say. I could make excuses for why I was lacking that last bit of pop, such as the morning run I went on unaccompanied this morning, but all in all, I’m trying to not to worry about a training run gone awry in early September, especially one that had so many positives. In fact, I think the greatest defeat of the day would be to allow that lap on the track to be my take-away from the day, rather than the miles that went so well beforehand.
Health, Happiness & A Victory
We had our first race today, and I was not very excited, considering how well I did at this meet last year, combined with the fact that we were on our home course. Then again, it’s hard to be too excited about something that caused some of my best friends so much frustration, mental anguish, and physical pain. At this point last year, I was trying to assure myself that my hospitalized teammates and competitors would be okay, which took much of the luster off my first-ever top 10 finish in a cross-country race, and our team’s victory. After last year, a day with no hospitalization could be considered a victory.
As we pinned the numbers to our jerseys and began our warm-up, I couldn’t help noticing the absence of a few good men. We lost four runners to graduation, and three of them were definitely missed today. (It’s not that I’m mean, it’s that Colin Sanders has remained with us in a volunteer coaching/alumni running role, and it’s hard to miss someone when they’re at the start line pouring water on you.) That said, I’m still missing my running mentor/fellow hockey fan, the fine fellow who taught me the ins and outs of the Sports Information office, and the most southern, grammar-correcting clown you’ll ever meet. The character of our team changed so much when they moved on, and I think we’re still forging our new identity.
The character of our team changed so much when they moved on, and I think we’re still forging our new identity. As for the race, I’m actually quite happy with the way things unfolded. Just about everyone had at least an average day, and no one went to the hospital. We did more than enough to win the meet, and our freshmen performed especially well. The race went out excessively fast, which isn’t unexpected, considering that many of the teams were inexperienced and young. I like to run from the middle of the pack and pick people off as the race goes on, which is harder to do in shorter races with less competition, like today. That said, I kept in contact with a pack of my teammates for most of the race, and made a couple of passes in the last hundred meters.
While I finished 18th overall, as compared to last year’s 9th, I’m not upset at all about today. I know I have lots of room for improvement, and I didn’t go into today trying to perform in post-season form. Instead, I tried to run an intelligent race, and I finished exactly where I wanted among my teammates. This might sound strange to many, but I don’t go into cross-country races expecting to win or lead. If I were ever to lead a college cross-country race, it would probably be because I sprinted the first 400 meters, and was then ready to collapse by the first mile. In other words, I’m not Laura Coogan.
Laura is a senior on the women’s team, and she has won the Vassar Invitational the last three years. I really can’t compare what I do to what Laura does. When I race, I have someone to chase. Today, for over half of the race, Laura had no one to chase; everyone was chasing her. I can’t imagine someone like Laura goes into a race like this hoping to finish second. If someone passes me with authority, I can at least hope there’s someone else in front of me who has less gas left in the tank than I do. In the front, you don’t have that luxury, nor can you see how everyone else is moving, and if the people in second and third are gaining on you or fading back.
I asked Laura how she managed to handle leading a race, and she said “I think mostly about how I’m feeling and the gap I have on the girl behind me…I feel a little out of touch with the race…I just try to open up as much of a gap as I can.”
I have the utmost respect for what Laura does, not because she physically has what it takes to win, but because she’s developed a way to handle the nerves of knowing everyone is trying to beat you. I struggle with managing my mid-race nerves from the pack, where reining in someone trying to pass doesn’t decide the difference between success and defeat on a given day. I don’t expect to win at NYU in two weeks (just like I don’t expect to win the Pulitzer Prize for this blog) but after talking to Laura, I’m going to try to think like her, trying to make the gap to the guy behind me just a little bigger.
As we pinned the numbers to our jerseys and began our warm-up, I couldn’t help noticing the absence of a few good men. We lost four runners to graduation, and three of them were definitely missed today. (It’s not that I’m mean, it’s that Colin Sanders has remained with us in a volunteer coaching/alumni running role, and it’s hard to miss someone when they’re at the start line pouring water on you.) That said, I’m still missing my running mentor/fellow hockey fan, the fine fellow who taught me the ins and outs of the Sports Information office, and the most southern, grammar-correcting clown you’ll ever meet. The character of our team changed so much when they moved on, and I think we’re still forging our new identity.
The character of our team changed so much when they moved on, and I think we’re still forging our new identity. As for the race, I’m actually quite happy with the way things unfolded. Just about everyone had at least an average day, and no one went to the hospital. We did more than enough to win the meet, and our freshmen performed especially well. The race went out excessively fast, which isn’t unexpected, considering that many of the teams were inexperienced and young. I like to run from the middle of the pack and pick people off as the race goes on, which is harder to do in shorter races with less competition, like today. That said, I kept in contact with a pack of my teammates for most of the race, and made a couple of passes in the last hundred meters.
While I finished 18th overall, as compared to last year’s 9th, I’m not upset at all about today. I know I have lots of room for improvement, and I didn’t go into today trying to perform in post-season form. Instead, I tried to run an intelligent race, and I finished exactly where I wanted among my teammates. This might sound strange to many, but I don’t go into cross-country races expecting to win or lead. If I were ever to lead a college cross-country race, it would probably be because I sprinted the first 400 meters, and was then ready to collapse by the first mile. In other words, I’m not Laura Coogan.
Laura is a senior on the women’s team, and she has won the Vassar Invitational the last three years. I really can’t compare what I do to what Laura does. When I race, I have someone to chase. Today, for over half of the race, Laura had no one to chase; everyone was chasing her. I can’t imagine someone like Laura goes into a race like this hoping to finish second. If someone passes me with authority, I can at least hope there’s someone else in front of me who has less gas left in the tank than I do. In the front, you don’t have that luxury, nor can you see how everyone else is moving, and if the people in second and third are gaining on you or fading back.
I asked Laura how she managed to handle leading a race, and she said “I think mostly about how I’m feeling and the gap I have on the girl behind me…I feel a little out of touch with the race…I just try to open up as much of a gap as I can.”
I have the utmost respect for what Laura does, not because she physically has what it takes to win, but because she’s developed a way to handle the nerves of knowing everyone is trying to beat you. I struggle with managing my mid-race nerves from the pack, where reining in someone trying to pass doesn’t decide the difference between success and defeat on a given day. I don’t expect to win at NYU in two weeks (just like I don’t expect to win the Pulitzer Prize for this blog) but after talking to Laura, I’m going to try to think like her, trying to make the gap to the guy behind me just a little bigger.
The Psychology of Racing
September 5
The first race of the season is just around the corner, and we had our weekly, pre-race pep talk today. I am not a firm believer in sports psychology; while I truly understand why a focused athlete is a successful athlete, I’ve never found any success by visualizing myself being successful before a contest. Today’s meeting had a lot more practical application, and was a question I think all athletes might want to address with their teammates.
Our head coach, James McCowan, asked us, “How do you want to be treated during a hard workout? How about after a great race? Or a bad race?” I immediately knew how I would answer this question. When I was a Nordic skier in high school, I used to beg my teammates not to cheer for me. It wasn’t because I was embarrassed about being slow (which I was), it was because I’d likely get distracted and trip over my poles.
Basically, I find encouragement and cheering during most endurance sports to be counterproductive. Unless I’m at mile 20 of the Boston Marathon, I’m probably with it enough to know whether I’m having a good or a bad day, and I don’t need anyone to encourage me to pass the next few runners. I’m aware that the idea behind racing is to beat as many people as possible, and that kind of advice always seemed a little too obvious. Also, it takes a different breed of athlete to be a good runner. What we lack in ball skills, we more than make up for in eccentricity and self-criticism. I, like most runners, know when I haven’t performed to my potential, and the last thing I want to hear from a coach or a teammate is either an affirmation of my disappointment, or someone trying to tell me that “it wasn’t so bad.”
I know that I need about 15 minutes to calm down. In that time period, I’ve been known to do things ranging from 100 meter wind sprints to assaulting a trash can like Chicago Cubs pitcher Carlos Zambrano might after giving up a few too many homers. Either way, I can take care of myself, and I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Now, my teammates know this, and more importantly, I know which teammates like being yelled at for motivation, and which ones need some quiet time to process things in the wake of success or failure.
The first race of the season is just around the corner, and we had our weekly, pre-race pep talk today. I am not a firm believer in sports psychology; while I truly understand why a focused athlete is a successful athlete, I’ve never found any success by visualizing myself being successful before a contest. Today’s meeting had a lot more practical application, and was a question I think all athletes might want to address with their teammates.
Our head coach, James McCowan, asked us, “How do you want to be treated during a hard workout? How about after a great race? Or a bad race?” I immediately knew how I would answer this question. When I was a Nordic skier in high school, I used to beg my teammates not to cheer for me. It wasn’t because I was embarrassed about being slow (which I was), it was because I’d likely get distracted and trip over my poles.
Basically, I find encouragement and cheering during most endurance sports to be counterproductive. Unless I’m at mile 20 of the Boston Marathon, I’m probably with it enough to know whether I’m having a good or a bad day, and I don’t need anyone to encourage me to pass the next few runners. I’m aware that the idea behind racing is to beat as many people as possible, and that kind of advice always seemed a little too obvious. Also, it takes a different breed of athlete to be a good runner. What we lack in ball skills, we more than make up for in eccentricity and self-criticism. I, like most runners, know when I haven’t performed to my potential, and the last thing I want to hear from a coach or a teammate is either an affirmation of my disappointment, or someone trying to tell me that “it wasn’t so bad.”
I know that I need about 15 minutes to calm down. In that time period, I’ve been known to do things ranging from 100 meter wind sprints to assaulting a trash can like Chicago Cubs pitcher Carlos Zambrano might after giving up a few too many homers. Either way, I can take care of myself, and I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Now, my teammates know this, and more importantly, I know which teammates like being yelled at for motivation, and which ones need some quiet time to process things in the wake of success or failure.
A Hard Day On The Roads
September 4
Could someone please get the license plate of the bus that just hit me? Some days, you just feel better than others. It's part of life. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be on the down end of the spectrum. The culprit behind my aching feet and slow, awkward shuffle around campus? The 17 miles I ran today would probably be a good starting point. If I left campus and ran 17 miles, I could get to Newburgh, and be a couple miles from Stewart Airport. Next time you're looking to save a few bucks on traveling, remember, you just might be able to run to the airport. Anyway, we were out on the race course again today, which is still a little bit loose for my liking. I'm really hoping for a rainstorm between now and Friday. After today's workout, however, I don't think a little loose mulch is going to keep us from racing well (and likely winning!) this weekend. It's so exciting to watch a couple freshmen on both our team and the women's team stick right with our returning runners. I compared times from a workout last year to the same workout this year, and whatever was good enough to get a given spot last year puts you a couple rungs down the ladder right now. We're a better time than we were this time last year, and that's good enough for me.
Could someone please get the license plate of the bus that just hit me? Some days, you just feel better than others. It's part of life. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be on the down end of the spectrum. The culprit behind my aching feet and slow, awkward shuffle around campus? The 17 miles I ran today would probably be a good starting point. If I left campus and ran 17 miles, I could get to Newburgh, and be a couple miles from Stewart Airport. Next time you're looking to save a few bucks on traveling, remember, you just might be able to run to the airport. Anyway, we were out on the race course again today, which is still a little bit loose for my liking. I'm really hoping for a rainstorm between now and Friday. After today's workout, however, I don't think a little loose mulch is going to keep us from racing well (and likely winning!) this weekend. It's so exciting to watch a couple freshmen on both our team and the women's team stick right with our returning runners. I compared times from a workout last year to the same workout this year, and whatever was good enough to get a given spot last year puts you a couple rungs down the ladder right now. We're a better time than we were this time last year, and that's good enough for me.
Running The Tower
August 31
The tower run is another one of our team’s traditions. It’s a grueling six miles from the base of the mountain to the tower, with over 1,000 feet of elevation covered. The key to the tower run is to not start too fast, because you’ll pay for it a few miles in. Today I attempted to do this run faster than I ever had, and I paid for it about four miles in. Even as I struggled up the mountain, I couldn’t help but marvel at the unobstructed views of the Hudson Valley. I met up with my teammates who had beaten me to the summit, and then waited for the remainder of the team to crest the final hill. Our coach met us on the tower which sits on the mountain, and told us that the team had been climbing this tower since he was a Vassar XC runner ten years ago, and that every year since the team has ran to this tower, climbed up with a small rock, and thrown it into the pond below. While some of the significance of this event definitely went over my head, it was nice to have a little recovery from that brutal climb, since I knew people were going to push the pace on the way back down.
When I got back to the house, 14 miles and just over 90 minutes later, I was just exhausted enough to appreciate a couple of Associate head coach Ron Stonitisch’s stories, which I no doubt have heard before, and will hear again. While they involve ex-team members which I’ve never met, he’s so much of a character that hearing about some prank or meet gone wrong five years ago is still entertaining.
This is what keeps me coming back.
The tower run is another one of our team’s traditions. It’s a grueling six miles from the base of the mountain to the tower, with over 1,000 feet of elevation covered. The key to the tower run is to not start too fast, because you’ll pay for it a few miles in. Today I attempted to do this run faster than I ever had, and I paid for it about four miles in. Even as I struggled up the mountain, I couldn’t help but marvel at the unobstructed views of the Hudson Valley. I met up with my teammates who had beaten me to the summit, and then waited for the remainder of the team to crest the final hill. Our coach met us on the tower which sits on the mountain, and told us that the team had been climbing this tower since he was a Vassar XC runner ten years ago, and that every year since the team has ran to this tower, climbed up with a small rock, and thrown it into the pond below. While some of the significance of this event definitely went over my head, it was nice to have a little recovery from that brutal climb, since I knew people were going to push the pace on the way back down.
When I got back to the house, 14 miles and just over 90 minutes later, I was just exhausted enough to appreciate a couple of Associate head coach Ron Stonitisch’s stories, which I no doubt have heard before, and will hear again. While they involve ex-team members which I’ve never met, he’s so much of a character that hearing about some prank or meet gone wrong five years ago is still entertaining.
This is what keeps me coming back.
Spending Time With Friends
August 30, 2008
I’ve heard that people at Vassar spend their time doing things they wouldn’t otherwise do in the “real world.” Maybe that explains why I spent my afternoon mulching a trail on the farm. Yet at the same time, I spent the afternoon catching up with some of my best friends, we just happened to be spreading and raking mulch. The course is definitely taking shape, and with a combination of all the running we’ll do on it in the next week and a couple of rainstorms, everything should pack in, making for wonderful footing next weekend.
I’ve heard that people at Vassar spend their time doing things they wouldn’t otherwise do in the “real world.” Maybe that explains why I spent my afternoon mulching a trail on the farm. Yet at the same time, I spent the afternoon catching up with some of my best friends, we just happened to be spreading and raking mulch. The course is definitely taking shape, and with a combination of all the running we’ll do on it in the next week and a couple of rainstorms, everything should pack in, making for wonderful footing next weekend.
Working Out In The Pool
August 28
I am not the best swimmer in the world; I am a runner. You won’t see me doing triathlons anytime soon. Some of my teammates look at cross-training as a needed break from the pounding of long runs, while others view it with more dread and disdain. When it comes to pool running, I have been in the latter category. For the last two years, I used my flotation belt as a crutch to make it through Thursday workouts. Not this year, apparently. The first words I heard from my coach when I entered the pool area were “Save the belts for the freshmen.” Taking away my belt is not a way for a freshman to ingratiate himself to me, I thought. A funny thing happened, however. In the last two years, I actually learned to pool run. No doubt it was a tough day, especially for cross-training, but I stayed afloat.
I am not the best swimmer in the world; I am a runner. You won’t see me doing triathlons anytime soon. Some of my teammates look at cross-training as a needed break from the pounding of long runs, while others view it with more dread and disdain. When it comes to pool running, I have been in the latter category. For the last two years, I used my flotation belt as a crutch to make it through Thursday workouts. Not this year, apparently. The first words I heard from my coach when I entered the pool area were “Save the belts for the freshmen.” Taking away my belt is not a way for a freshman to ingratiate himself to me, I thought. A funny thing happened, however. In the last two years, I actually learned to pool run. No doubt it was a tough day, especially for cross-training, but I stayed afloat.
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